Bath-Time
by giacinta
Summary: Dean enjoys a relaxing moment in the tub. One-shot. Brotherly affection.


Bath-Time

XXXXXXX

Dean stretched his limbs luxuriously in the tub, his body soaking pleasurably in the hot-water laced with the bath-crystals he had found in an old-fashioned glass bottle on the shelf above the bath.

The bottle had still been sealed and the crystals hadn't lost their perfume, the scent of pine wafting up and tickling his nostrils.

He sighed in contentment.

As they explored their new home, surprises were at the order of the day, but the moment they had taken possession of the bunker Dean had spotted the huge bath-tub, a smile pulling at his lips at the sight. He rarely had the chance to wallow in a tub as the motels they frequented didn't usually provide anything more exotic than a skimpy shower with a scarcity of hot water, and as soon as he had seen it, he had been anticipating using it as often as he could.

Unlike him Sam was a shower man.

That freaky body of his just wasn't designed for normal bath tubs and although this one could easily accommodate even Sam's gigantor body, he was certain that Sam had never used it even once.

Somehow, his little brother had understood it was Dean's, and he had kept his distance.

He stretched again lazily; there was no happier man on Earth at this moment than Dean Winchester.

X

He and Sam finally had a home. Something that belonged to them alone. They were the last of the Men of Letters and this was a birth-right they had received honestly.

A home was something Sammy had never had, he mused sadly, and which he himself could barely recall, although the trip to Heaven had brought back memories of his childhood bed-room _and_ of all that had been taken from him by Azazel.

Dean felt his possessive streak coming to the fore; it was something that rarely had any need to surface for he had very little to be possessive about, but what he _did_ have was precious to him; the Impala, his favourite gun, his knives and Sam. Sam was his, but not as an object, more as an extension of himself; a part of his soul that was essential to his very existence.

What he would do to keep his brother safe had no boundaries, and although the rare times they talked about the subject, affirming that they had to learn to let go, to be more like those around them who mourned when a sibling died but would never think to follow them into death, or worse raise them from it, but intimately Dean couldn't deny the truth; that if faced with the fact, he would go where Sammy went.

X

They had shared so much together, good and bad, and sometimes it had been the bad that had bound them even closer.

At Stull Cemetery, there had been nothing good going on, no silver lining, but through it all he and Sam had connected, their love had ousted the Devil enough to let Sammy take that terrible jump into the Cage but his last glance had been for Dean, their eyes locking together one last time before they were severed one from the other.

Dean pushed the memory from his mind.

X

Sam was with him now; there was no point in dragging up their painful past.

Here they could start a new life, maybe do things differently; have more time for themselves, just enjoy each other's company, because truth was they weren't just brothers, they were friends too. They complimented each other in just about everything.

They had pranked together, laughed together, cried together and played together.

He could really only be himself with Sam, for Sam knew him to the core; no-one else ever would because Dean would never let them in, not like his brother.

X

He stretched his body again, his feet not managing to touch the other end of the tub, so big it was; these Men of Letters really knew how to pamper themselves!

What could have happened to lead to their complete extermination, he wondered absently.

They couldn't have taken an oath of celibacy because Henry had been accepted into the Society as a married man with a child, so there probably had been other members with children too.

Perhaps some spell had taken the majority of them out even before Abaddon had shown up. Maybe they had been trying to build up the membership again when Henry had joined.

For now it was still a mystery but if anyone could solve it, that would be his tenacious little brother. Sam had a bloodhound's nose for research and sooner or later he would find all the answers, but for now, Dean simply sent up a thank you to all those who had gone before; for building this place and handing it down through the generations until it came to him and Sam.

He now had the bunker to add to his list of possessions and he would keep it secret. No-one would be allowed in here. It was the Winchesters' Fortress of Solitude.

He knew it must be well warded with every sigil imaginable; otherwise some supernatural freak would have come across it by now. Those old guys certainly knew how to get the job done, he conceded thankfully!

X

X

"Hey, are you still alive in there, Dean?" His brother's voice wafted through the thick oak door to the bathroom. "You've been soaking in that tub for nearly two hours. I didn't know you had a secret aspiration to turn into a wrinkled prune!"

"Shut up, Sammy! You're just jealous that I have this wonderful tub and you don't, but if you're a good boy and rustle me up something to eat for when I get out, I'll give you a turn!"

"No way, man," Sam replied quickly. "I don't know what you get up to in there and I _don't_ want to know but let's just say I prefer the shower. The tub's all yours!" Sam snarked through the door.

"Ah, Sammy," Dean smiled to himself, as he replied. "What would I do without you and your princessy ass?"

"Huh, You'd be well and truly lost, Dean, if I wasn't around to keep tabs on you," Sam answered sarcastically as he turned to go back to the library.

"Yeah, little brother, never a truer word was said, without you I'd be lost," he whispered to the empty room as he unwillingly pulled his body from the water. "But I know you'd always find me."

X

XXX The enD XXX


End file.
